The Shadow of Remnant
by Plasmal
Summary: The honourable Shinobi fulfilled his duty. Protected his lord, and severed the ties of immortality at the expense of his own life. The Shinobi expected to enter the afterlife, but expectations were shattered, just as the moon before him. - a RWBY and Sekiro story.
1. Chapter 1

"Well … done… Sekiro".

Isshin Ashina slumped into the confines of the grass beneath him. His body lay into the white flowers that seemed to be untouched by the flames beyond, unburdened by the hatred of war, or the sounds of battle; a fitting resting place for the dignified man.

"Farewell".

Never in his whole life, or rather the many lives he has recovered from had he met a man such as Isshin Ashina. No one could match Isshin's skills with the blade. None other possessed such power, speed, and strength as the man beneath him.

The memory of this battle would remain with the One-Armed Wolf to the end of his days.

Glancing back at the scene behind him; the flames of war continued to burn through the country, towering high, and as low as the rivers below. He would've liked to see Ashina flourish, regardless of his status as a Shinobi... Watching a Country falling was no reason for celebration, but victory against such a powerful opponent was.

However, celebration would not come, not in the form of Sake like the old man once enjoyed, but in the act of fulfilling one's duty. Such realisation came to the wolf, for he scanned the fields, spotting Kuro in the distance. The Wolf closed the gap instantaneously.

The Divine Heir lay beneath him, immobilised from his wounds prior, to Genichiro.

Sekiro's eyes drooped downwards, along with his figure, kneeling, and placing a hand beneath Kuro's back, lifting him upwards in support.

"I am at your side".

The words of comfort were just so: words.

Not a promise, for the Shinobi knew that both could not exist if one were to sever the ties of Immortality. Such a truth was found out upon hearing a conversation between Emma, and the Sculptor 'Orangutang' at the Dilapidated Temple. The conclusion of their conversation was a simple one.

_"Those made immortal by the Oath of the Dragon's Heritage shackles their masters"._

_"The oathbound of the Dragon's Heritage must die"._

The Wolf was not afraid of death, for he died countless times, all for the sake of the Divine Heir, accompanied by the restraints of the Iron Code, and without it, now.

Dying once more for his sake yet again was no problem.

"Take the Dragon Tears". The Wolf said, dropping the purple essence onto the Heir.

Kuro withered in pain for a second but was lulled to sleep momentarily.

The Wolf reached over his back, placing a firm grip on the hilt of the Mortal Blade, pulling the red crimson out from it's sheathed, the embers of its powers radiating from the metal like mist beneath a valley.

"I hereby condemn the last Immortal".

The loyal Wolf brings the blade towards his chest, aiming the tool capable of severing the ties of immortality to the gape of his neck.

Glancing down once more to the prince, Sekiro wished for one thing, and one thing only.

"May you live on, and embrace what it means to be human".

With a heavy heart, but with no hesitation, Sekiro swiftly delivered the blade to his neck.

Metal hit flesh... and Sakura flowers bloomed from the Shinobi in his departure, the petals rose slowly, ascending high, and towards the sun it drifted along the wind.

Sekiro, the One-Armed Wolf, loyal Shinobi of the divine heir, was no longer.

Kuro, the Divine Heir, was no longer immortal.

* * *

The Iron Code was instilled into the mind of Sekiro at a young age by his father, the Owl, with the code demanding Sekiro to obey his orders and to protect Lord Kuro. Even up to the moments of departure, he did not know the reasons for his father's actions. He brought him in, trained him in the ways of the Shinobi, yet he was the one who planted the blade in him during the sacking of the Hirata Estate. He ordered him to protect the Lord at all costs, yet demanded Sekiro to forsake the Divine Heir.

Such violence, such disregard for life, and the bonds of family. The Dragon's Heritage was truly a curse for mankind. He had seen it corrupt the mind of Genichiro Ashina, by all extents, a man with good intentions. It would be no surprise for a man as dishonourable as his father to be bewitched by such power.

Nonetheless, he would no longer be restrained by the Great Shinobi Owl, and to an extent, the Iron Code. His protection of the Divine Heir was not facilitated by this flawed code, but instead, his own. The ties of immortality are severed, and not a single fragment of regret plagued his mind. His life, for the freedom of the Divine Heir. A simple exchange… an easy decision to make.

Emma would take good care of him, that is for sure. No doubt, the Heir would be safe with the descendant of Lord Doujen accompanying him. Her frail figure betrayed the amount of strength and skill she possessed with the blade.

Sekiro expected to be taken to the afterlife, but after the many lives he took, he wouldn't be surprised if he was laid in the depths of hell, accompanied by the demons he faced for so long.

Yet the honourable Shinobi did not descend into the afterlife. He awoke.

To a world illuminated by the rays of a shattered moon.

* * *

Author's Note:

Ever died 30 times in a row in a video game? Yeah, I have and I can't say it's a good feeling. I've never really been humbled like this since Ornstein in Smough way back in DS1.

Nonetheless, it was an enjoyable experience and I'll definitely play through it again. Maybe next time around, I'll get the Shura ending.

This is a short chapter, and I promise that the next will be longer. Stay tuned, and leave your thoughts in the reviews, it would be much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

"Hnng"

A ringing pain resonated through his head as he woke from his slumber, feeling sluggish, and struggling to open his eyes. Fatigue covered his entire body, however he rose, nonetheless

As he tried to lift himself from the grass beneath him, a bitter laugh escaped him as he bore witness to the scene before him. Fields of white once more, consisting of knee-high wheat. Such a sight did not bring joy to Sekiro, as whilst it was a beautiful landscape in plenty; it was a field filled with conflict.

The fields were his beginning, and his end, tied with the undying blood of Kuro, Genichiro and Isshin. It was no wonder such a familiar sight brought Sekiro a mix of pride: in duty to the Heir, a sense of anger towards Genichiro as well as anxiousness in reverence to the Sword Saint.

He looked around once more, as if scanning for a threat to appear beyond the white fields, finally relaxing after minutes of cautious vigilance.

Did I truly sever the ties of immortality? If so, how am I here?

Sekiro clenched his teeth tightly, with enough strength to shatter the fragments in his jaw. A familiar feeling plagued his body once again.

"Have I failed again"?

No. It could not be... The Dragon Tears, along with the branch of the Everblossom tree removed the curse of the Dragon's Heritage from Kuro. He explicitly remembered the presence of the curse being severed from the Heir in that moment, and also the duty that he fulfilled; his final moments, where he drew ended his own life

He did what he had to do, and sacrificed himself to rid of the threat of the cursed blood brought to mankind, as well as the greed in the attempt to achieve it.

Such greed would lead to destruction. No doubt, if the Owl was given the powers of the Dragon blood, or Genichiro succeeded in his attempts, the world would assuredly fall into chaos. A cycle of war, without a pause for prosperity to return to the country once more.

"How, then?" he mused, brows furrowing. Did he truly succeed?

He checked himself, as if to feel if he was truly there, and not some ethereal remnant of himself like his many foes. His prosthetic arm remained in place, donning the tools of the Shinobi shurikens, firecrackers and mist raven feathers. On his back, he felt the weight of the crimson sword, and on his waist, he felt the pouches of essential tools.

Everything seemed to be in place, all but the gourd flask he held onto, however, he was most comforted by the feel of Kusabimaru attached to his hip. The tool was an extension of his body, just as much as his prosthetic arm was. It wasn't an out of the ordinary weapon, per se, it was like any other blade, no similar to a soldier's or a samurai's, yet it was special in every sense to him. It was given to him by Lord Kuro, it protected him, both in a physical sense with the enemies he faced, and mentally. The blade reminded the Shinobi of his humanity, for the mantra that it beseeched.

_A shinobi's role is to kill, but even a shinobi must not forget mercy._

His moment of comfort was dispelled when he laid eyes upon the light source from above.

He choked on air as he witnessed the moon, shattered, with fragments of white hovering in the top corner.

"Hahaha! I was waiting for that... Priceless!"

The familiar, old voice called, putting himself on edge. As the figure approached closer, Sekiro placed his hands on the hilt of Kusabimaru, readying himself for the threat approaching.

"Do not be alarmed, Wolf" the man exclaimed "I am not here to fight you… We all know how that turned out" a great laugh escaped from the once more, easing Sekiro, for the threat of conflict seemed extinguished.

Sekiro knew fully that his victory in combat against Isshin Ashina; in his prime, no least, was a battle that could have went both ways. His words were hollow, yet pride arose at his statement nonetheless. A few could hope to best such a man, and he did not know if he had the capacity to face him once more.

[Really, another damned phase!? is he going to fight with a lightning spear, this time? - a voice shouted from a future far, far away, with sounds of a wood being slammed against.]

"Truthfully, Sekiro, I had no intention of facing you. I'd have let you escape with Kuro, if it were not for my grandson's will to protect Ashina. Such will evoked me into facing you, to seize the powers of immortality, just as Genichiro wished for".

"I understand" he responded.

The Sword Saint laughed once more, "Still not one for words?" he complained.

Isshin walked gracefully towards an empty patch near Sekiro, placing himself on the ground beneath him, before setting his Katana, and spear on either side of himself and looked coldly into the eyes of the Wolf.

Moments passed, ten, maybe fifteen seconds where he felt that battle would arise at any instance.

"It seems the shadow of Shura no longer lingers within yourself, Wolf, nor does the mark of the Dragon's Heritage" he mused quietly "that is… fortunate".

It was truly fortunate, for his mark was no longer apparent on the side of his face when he caressed his skin, the absence of the mark confirmed the vanquishing of the Dragon's Heritage.

He was successful in his duties, he realized. A smile escaped him, and he let out a breath of relief to the news, the weight of failure, no longer burdening the Shinobi.

His thoughts were interrupted when the man before him gestured towards the unusual moon above. "It seems we were transported to an unknown place in our departure from Ashina" the man spat as if still plagued by regret. Despite his extraordinary talents, he could not extinguish the flames of war. No doubt, the Sword Saint expressed great grief when he bore witness to the flames Ashina contained. "I have only been here as long as you have, yet it is different from the land we were once in," he said.

Sekiro looked around once more, beyond the fields of white beneath him, and further, taking note of the countless trees beyond, and mountains surrounding them with a strange house nearing the riverbank.

It was not Ashina. It was not Japan.

"Another alternate dimension, perhaps, like the divine realm"? Sekiro asked.

"I do not believe so, Wolf, for the essence of life before us are not unusual in any sense" he responded, "this may not be the afterlife, either, for this normalcy reminds me of the lands of our past".

Sekiro still wondered where Isshin's assumptions came from, for he could see the inner demons of oneself, just like Shura. Where did such knowledge and perception derive from? Perhaps the countless battles he has faced, the skill he developed in pursuit of strength, or first-hand experience?

Still, the conclusion baffled him. If this land before him contained the same feeling of Ashina and was 'real', it could only mean one thing.

"Another world… Impossible" Sekiro said.

"Hmm? Divine realms, immortality and relics so powerful it devours one's mortality? Not out of the question if you were to ask me" the old man let out a soft chuckle again.

He didn't express sadness by the fact. He was alive once more, in fact, he was glad. He was just disappointed that in his life, he would never witness Lord Kuro's happiness.

"You still worry about the boy, even after true death… Hmm, I always knew you weren't scum like the those Shinobi rats" he stated, an amused expression on his face "Do not worry. I can only assume he lives a good life because of you. You have done enough. And what you could do for the Heir, lady Emma will do in your place".

He felt relieved, yet resigned. Empty, in a sense. All his life, he followed the Iron Code, and again when he decided he had enough such a flawed code, he developed his own desires, his own Code. Not cold as inhumane, and cold like Iron. His duty was fulfilled, yet nothing remained in replacement.

* * *

"What… do I do now"? He spoke slowly as if he did not have any freedom whatsoever, as if every action was dictated by another.

_'I suppose the first thing we should do is cross the Ashina border..." The Heir said "Or perhaps we should hide somewhere... What do you think"? He asked._

"_Whatever you desire" he responded._

"_Whatever I desire? That's the Wolf I know."_

* * *

"_One!" his Father exclaimed "The parent is absolute. Their will must be obeyed!"_

* * *

And it was. Sekiro did not know freedom. Despite this, he was content with being subservient to his Lord, to his Father until his actions became irredeemable.

Battle was all he knew as a boy, and obedience would be expected, lest he intended to invite the wrath of his surrogate father, or even more intense training sessions with Lady Butterfly.

Isshin regarded Sekiro, rising from his resting position upon sensing his state of contemplation, and placed a hand on Sekiro's shoulder.

"Life is not as simple as following a code, facing many a battle, or devoting oneself to a Lord. Do not make the same mistakes I have done, Wolf". The Sword Saint said, not in a tone of condescendence to a child, but respect, perhaps even a hint of pity for him.

Isshin picked up his weaponry from the grass beneath him, moving his own mortal blade on his hip, and dismantling his spear to a more suitable carrying size, placing it beneath his light blue robes.

Ah, so that is where he hid that monstrous weapon… Honestly...

"I don't know about you, but I am intent on exploring this unknown land. Perhaps they serve even finer Sake than Ashina's!" Isshin exclaimed as if the experience of unknown alcohol countenanced losing his own life and country. In all regards, it probably did for Isshin.

A smile tugged Sekiro's mouth. He made ready to move in the direction of the moon, where a gap in the trees made itself apparent a couple of hundred metres away — a footpath, to an unknown destination.

"Yes. Let us explore this land".

He also hoped they had good alcohol, to boot. Maybe it would be as strong as Dragonspring?

* * *

He had just come back from clearing out a pack of Grimm. Beowolves, mixed in with nevermores, and giant nevermore alike. Not the first time, and definitely not the last time he'd played cleanup for a village far from Vale's borders. It was by the frontier, nearing the Grimmlands. Safe to say, Grimm were fairly common around these parts, and where the Grimm were, huntsman and huntresses were, also. Yet he was the one delegated to this janitorial role instead of scouting for the real enemy. Whatever, it's been dealt with, and it's not like I don't mind a break from saving the world!

"Ugh…" Qrow wiped the spilled bourbon from his lips, ready for another drink as the moments of defeat came closer, and closer. He realised then that his cup was empty, and just about threw the bottle before him.

"Um," the lady behind the counter quietly said, "I think you've enough, sir".

His moment of clarity would be no more! Even the most disastrous Grimm could not defeat such an enemy!

"Hmm. I think it's about time you left. As much as I like cleaning up the vomit of drunkards, I think I deserve a break". The gruff man beside him said, gesturing towards the entrance.

"Yeah yeah... I know, I'll be" hhrk "taking my" urghl "leave".

The Huntsman, slayer of Grimm, womaniser, finest warrior in the kingdom of vale slid on the flat wood surface, his boot angled ever so slightly during his descent from the stool. It would've been a non-threatening injury, however as if he walked past a black cat, spotted an albatross on sea, and walked under a ladder at the same time, a gust of wind flew in towards the door, resulting in Qrow's temple hitting the corner of the bar table; leaving the huntsman dazed and grounded

"Not again…" he sighed, readying himself to carry him out of the bar like the night before, towards the nearest inn.

* * *

Author's Notes:

_Just to clarify, the Qrow is wayyy far away from Sekiro and Isshin. And yeah yeah, I know! Qrow typical bad luck trope. *im sorry*_

Thanks for reading again though, I'm pretty surprised by the number of followers I've received in the past day, thanks for that, and also for the reviews!

Will be taking some time to plan out this story, and characterisation of… Well, characters!

As you have noticed these two chapters are in the introduction phase, and will be moving out soon enough! Will they meet team RWBY? Are they in Vale, Mistral, Atlas or Vacuo? Find out next time, when I beat Isshin Ashina on new game plus using ceramic tiles.

But for real, Uni has been kicking it up a notch in regards to assignments and exams. I'll be back soon enough.


	3. Chapter 3

The pair walked through the woods, remaining on the paved footpath before them. The two continued in conversation with one another for a couple hours, waving through topics such as Sekiro's endeavours in pursuit of the Immortal blade, to stories of how Isshin kicked the Great Shinobi Owl's ass once in a fight deriving from alcohol.

"You fought dishonourably, Wolf, just as I expected".

"Didn't you… pull a gun on me?"

"Ha! Victory by any means, Sekiro. I recall you utilizing a dozen shuriken. It was only fair that I reveal a ranged weapon of my own."

"Fairness? That spear was anything but fair... I don't recall it's usage anywhere in the Ashina texts."

The Sword Saint let out a small laugh, "Yes, I've only ever revealed such a weapon to the foes most worthy during my younger years. Ah, the last time I'd wielded it was against that senile sculptor."

Senile? You are one to talk. He didn't express the thought.

"The same one at the temple, on the outskirts of Ashina castle?" He questioned.

"Yes… The same one," the old man replied, eyes drooped "he was known as the Orangutang Shinobi, for he donned an orange robe, and was as agile as a monkey. He'd have thrown his excrement if he had been one, for the blasted man utilised every underhanded trick in the book. Went for my eyes, threw sand, feigned surrender despite aiming a dagger in my neck a moment later" he spat, a smile tugging the edges of his lips.

Sekiro knew the delight of such a tactic. It would've gotten him too, but he had known of the Owl's use of such tricks beforehand.

"For all my years of combat, never have I encountered such a dishonourable foe!" he exclaimed, "Even amongst the Shinobi's, they were tame compared to the fearsome Orangutang. However, it was admirable. The need to achieve victory by any means necessary… I can respect that."

The sword saint looked towards Sekiro once more, "and imagine my delight when you fought the same way. Hmmph. You were like the spitting image of the man. Thank goodness you did not follow the same footsteps."

"You mentioned this before". Sekiro recalled his conversations over Sake with the man, one which talked of Shura. He also recalled the same thoughts from his disciple; Emma.

She was never a woman that was good at hiding secrets, it seemed. Talks of demons from both master and disciple? Shura was undoubtedly a threat, one which he was not aware of, one that could not be beaten with the blade of his own, but humanity. And he'd seen the likes of someone losing their humanity, succumbing to rage, pure hatred. The sculptor.

I should have known... The many seals littered on the walls of the temple, the many Buddha to seal his rage. When the siege on Ashina castle went way, and ammunition found the temple, the burning of the seals proved enough to release his rage.

"His hatred was similar to yours."

* * *

"_Those who go on killing will eventually become Shura. They don't even remember why. Simply enraptured; they kill solely for the joy it brings them...I see it in your eyes too. The shadow of Shura" he said, pausing for a moment, sullen yet focused eyes glared at the Wolf, "Give me cause, and I will kill you. It would do you well to remember that"._

* * *

The threat of being overcome by the demon was no longer. But the old man's diagnosis surprised him… Hatred? Yes… Perhaps that was the feeling he held in all those years.

Witnessing the severed head of his father on the spikes of his home.

Watching his mother being cut apart, body defiled by the soldiers of the warring clans in his young years.

Years of obedience to his surrogate father. Failure towards his Lord. And to add to that, the hatred he felt towards the enemies that have slain him, fuelling the fire even more. Dying time and time again. It was was a great boon, as to how fast he garnered knowledge in battle… how to evade devastating attacks, how to see an opponents move five steps ahead, but it was also a great curse for the implications on his wrath.

Their conversation drifted to silence not solely due to contemplation, but for unannounced noise. It resembled the crushing branches and leaves. An average person would not have heard such movement, for their footpath was also cluttered, but their keen sense of hearing, forged by the experience of battle alerted them.

The footpath was narrow, fit for three-persons side to side, the Wolf noting that this would be a perfect ambush, for one could not see past the many trees and bushes.

Sekiro's hand was placed on Kusabimaru's sheath, his thumb extended forward. A breadth of Iron shone from the sheath, letting out a silent hiss of metal.

The two remained as still as water, in anticipation for an encroaching enemy. Twigs snapped to their left, and a great roar emerged, alerting their presence to a blackened beast charging through the shrubbery.

The wolf-like creature sailed through the air, swiping downwards with both paws towards the old man next to him.

Its claws did not meet Isshin, not at all, for its front limbs were severed before it even touched the ground. Sekiro barely witnessed the second mortal blade of Isshin's being drawn, a testament to how quick he was.

The beast writhed in agony as it was grounded, flailing on the ground. The creature let out screams of pain, akin to a whining dog, soon dissipating, as Isshin lodged his blade into its back, leaving black motes in the air.

"Pathetic…" the old man spat, as he sheathed his blade, "you'd think such a beast of that size would pose at least a hint of strength".

"Your definition of weak would likely be vastly different to the normal person, Isshin," Sekiro remarked, glancing around, still weary more enemies. It seemed to be clear after a moment of watch "but if you desire a fight, it seems we have some work cut out for us."

While this world was different to Japan, it seemed that creatures willing to kill were still apparent, and conflict was ever so present, for embers of flames flew towards their directions, smoke and ash invading their sense of smell... It was a familiar scent, one he detested much so.

The Sword Saint let out a small chuckle in anticipation as they crept out of the forests, spotting the source of the smoke; fires wrapped around the massive settlement, with wooden walls, and spikes, as if to fend off not human, but larger foes.

Bodies were littered outside, the path most likely leading to another settlement lay ridden with dead bodies, the remains impaled, slashed, decapitated and… chewed?

Not a moment was spared thereafter, as the pair dashed through a gap in the fortifications, with the flames leaving holes in the wood structure for an entry route.

The two sprinted through the village, heads glancing upwards and noting the strange structures made out of immaculate stone and brick, fitting for a different world. The context did not dictate an architectural analysis, however, and the pair rushed towards the screams afar.

As they approached the main town square, dozens of black beasts roamed throughout in between the buildings.

The threat of a dozen beasts afar didn't draw their attention, however.

A horrifying scream was let out by a woman a dozen metres away, clutching a child in her hands.

Sekiro saw it many times. Innocents slain in the crossfire of conflict between warring clans. Usually, a shinobi didn't take sides or save the innocents; however, this wasn't a war between clans; it was one between people and beasts.

And as far as definitions went, he was no longer a shinobi of the Iron Code and wasn't so apathetic to ignore a life that could've been saved.

Sekiro tightly gripped the hilt of Kusabimaru, gritting his teeth in anger at the hateful foe before him. The One-Armed Wolf angled himself downwards in an instance, pushing himself with tremendous force off the ground beneath him towards the wolf-like creature. His blade struck the animal's forearms, piercing through the fur and skin. It let out a screech.

Sekiro, in its moments of pain, placed his leg on its forearms, leaping upwards and delivering a swift deathblow upon his descent, lodging Kusabimaru in the neck of the beast.

He twisted the blade, and as if pulling a lever, dislodged the head off the blackened wolf.

There was no mercy or hesitation in his strike, with the remnants of the creature resembling the works of an expert butchery, showing for a slight second before dissolving into the ground beneath him.

Sekiro looked towards Isshin, already amidst conflict with a dozen creatures, a mix of wolves and boar-like creatures. He was expertly controlling the field with no trouble, most likely toying with the pack. There was no concern for him. His interest lay elsewhere.

"Are you alright"?

"Y-yes… thank you, thank you" she replied, looking towards the dirt below, holding her child before her tightly as the boy whimpered; no more than the age of three. Such an execution would be traumatic, she seemed to calm down after a moment, releasing the tight grip, reassured by the man's presence.

"You're a huntsman, aren't you"? She questioned,

Huntsman? Perhaps a class of warriors, similar to Samurai?

"Yes".

"Thank goodness" she relaxed and exhaled slowly.

"Let's get you out of here."

"No..." she exclaimed, "Survivors. The-there… they've all evacuated to the town hall," she gestured behind him, towards the great cloud of smoke. No, it was green smoke. Unnaturally green resembling a smoke flare. "the big building, near the middle".

"There's a team of huntsman and militiamen there already. I-I think it's safe".

He doubted that, but if the fighting force were situated by the town hall, it would be safer than venturing into the woodlands again, if the trail of dead outside the exits was any signal.

Even then, he couldn't leave this devastated town. Time was of the essence, and he couldn't deliver the mother and child before him to safety, and get to the town hall in time to do the same.

It was a gamble.

"Alright", he said after a few moments of contemplation, "stay close by, don't run away. I won't be able to help you if you're afar".

Sekiro jogged slowly, as to not distance himself too far from his slower escorts.

Isshin seemed to be finished, surrounded by six beasts before deciding he'd had enough, grasping an object beneath him, emerging a spear from his robes. He jumped backwards in evasion, swiping horizontally in a swift, great strike, tearing through the creatures with ease.

The Shinobi usually acted alone, however having aid in the form of Isshin Ashina was something he could get used to.

The man in question turned towards him.

"What news do you bring, compassionate Wolf"?

"The town hall, where the green smoke is holds survivors and other fighters" he replied.

"Lead the way, Wolf", gesturing towards the two before him "I'll stay close behind and cull those who seek to harm them".

* * *

Chaos… he thought. It was just as it was in Kuroyuri, destroyed buildings, and fearful survivors. He could not… Would not let such a massacre happen again; it was the reason why he'd decided to become a huntsman, to protect innocents from the Grimm.

Yet here he was, amid battle, slaying Grimm all alike; however, he felt as if his efforts were moot.

His feelings of inadequacy were pulled away, as he evaded the claws of a swiping Beowulf, jumping over and slicing its neck all while pumping a hail of bullets in its body. He moved onto the next target, maneuvering closer to Professor Port and Nora who seemed to be having more trouble with the waves of boarbatusks and an Ursa as opposed to Pyrrha and Jaune, guarding the main entrance to the town hall from stragglers, just barely managing.

The creatures did not seem to stop. His eyes widened, and his heart dropped as an Ursa Major joined the fray, tearing through the blockade of fire towards Jaune's flank.

"No!" He shouted, "Pyrrha, Jaune, to your left!"

The two shared a nod of acknowledgement and automatically prepared for the attack on the call alone. Such a quick response. It was a testament to how far they've come as a team. However, teamwork would not help them here, it seemed. Their team could not simultaneously handle a horde of Grimm, and an Ursa major alone.

Teamwork could not prevail as it had before.

There was a pause of nothingness in his mind, a subconscious use of his semblance as helplessness attempted to cloud his mind. A plead escaped him… and it was answered to his surprise.

It came in the form of a devastating attack from the Ursa Major's rear, an orange figure colliding with the Ursa with great force, leaping off its hind legs, slashing downwards as gravity took its effect on the man.

The Ursa flailed in agony, and anger in response to the man, swiping backwards.

The orange figure expertly redirected the great claws, delivering a swift strike in response to the ligaments on the back of the beast's hind legs, severing the muscles. He exploited the staggered state, lodging a blade in its neck, an axe that emerged from his left arm, severing the beast in mere moments.

Before he could even process how quick the elder Grimm was disposed of, he bore witness to the old man, donning an immensely large spear. He dashed quickly to Nora and Professor Port, faster than even Ruby herself, and substantially reduced the horde of Grimm to a sizeable amount with devastating sweeping attacks, expertly thrusting, and pulling back, utilizing the blades nearing the tip to deliver a backside blow on the unfortunate creatures.

Ren snapped out of his stupor, helping Pyrrha and Jaune finish off the Grimm by the town hall entrance. It seemed to be clear, and the three quickly rushed to where the remaining Grimm was.

He looked at his scroll and noted that his aura was in the red. No matter. This wouldn't take long.

It didn't take too long at all. With most efforts being taken care of. The Grimm were quickly disposed of, thanks to the help of the two men who came with a lady and child in need of safety.

After their immediate checks on the populace of Eilor, medicinal supply deliveries, his team, along with their Professor aiding them on their first mission walked towards the two.

Their professor stroked his chin as he walked up, "Not bad, I daresay, you two did well. Not as good as me, of course!" he let out a boisterous laugh.

Of course… You'd think after a close battle like that, professor Port would be more… well… less like Port. It wasn't as if he was a bad Huntsman, his age was a testament to how experienced he was, and no student could compare to him. It's just that when you compared the man to the strangers before himself, there wasn't much that could be said at all.

The two fought unlike any other, with the speed and strength that was most likely unmatched by even the top Huntsman. He'd seen Ruby Rose tear through a pack of Grimm in mere seconds with her semblance, however the old man, and likely his son before him would do the same in mere _milliseconds_.

It was art, and Ren had enough knowledge in martial arts to recognise such skill. Is this the top class of Huntsman?

"Of course" the old man responded, releasing a smile, and laughing along with Port.

He took note of the large scar to the left of his eye. It seemed he was no stranger to combat.

Ren acknowledged the strange attire he had, for he wore a strange helmet, similar to Mistralian origins, however unlike anything he'd seen. He also noted the lower half of his strange attire, blue cloth surrounded the man, leaving a generous amount of skin for show.

Strange, but then again, it wasn't as if his attire was anything conventional.

"We were glad to be of assistance," the younger man said in correspondence. His attire was more practical, donning an orange robe over his sufficiently armoured body. He noticed the obvious, his left arm, holding wicked contraptions, it was prosthetic he'd never seen the likes of before.

Usually, it would be mechanical, thanks to the Atlas tech, but this was more… deadly?

Despite its lack of technological components, it was more than sufficient he mused.

"T-thanks," the blonde leader beside him said, "you really saved our butts out there".

Ren internally sighed for Jaune… even after training, becoming a good combatant, and already being a great leader, his confidence hasn't improved at all. We'd have to change that. Without threatening to break his leg, he shared a glare to Nora as she'd suggested before.

"Yes. We are truly thankful. We wouldn't have been able to save most of the villagers if you hadn't assisted us" Pyrrha injected, seeing Jaune's state of unease. Ever the diplomat, recognising unfavourable social cues. I guess it comes naturally, no doubt she'd been to a fair amount of political gatherings.

"Yeah! You were like, swish-splat and he-yahhhhh!" Nora said, making fantastical gestures not seeing Jaune's state of unease at all, and just being… Nora.

"Yes, your help was greatly appreciated," he bowed, "thank you".

"It is no problem. We have you to thanks for safely gathering the villagers and sending off that flare" the younger man said, arms extended towards the team.

That was Jaune's doing, off to his side he could feel the beaming. It was a good decision, he thought, one he wouldn't have thought of amid battle. Jaune was good at that, having a clear, tactical mind. Hopefu-

His thoughts were interrupted by the Bullhead's propellors drawing closer, louder than before. A dozen appeared, resembling specks, enlargening as they closed the distance.

It was their ticket home, as well as the survivors. They couldn't live in this place any longer. It was destroyed, just like Kuroyuri.

But at least they were alive. That was all that counted.

"As much as I'd like to converse," the professor interrupted "we've got a mission."

They all nodded, in preparation for assisting the wounded, and directing those who were uninjured.

"And you two," Port glanced to "excuse me, I haven't offered the manners to ask your name. I am Peter Port of Beacon Academy, and this is team JNPR".

"I am Sekiro" the younger man stated

"Isshin Ashina", the older man replied, bowing to the Huntsman.

"Well then, Sekiro and Isshin, would you like an escort to the city of Vale, we can hash out monetary compensation for your efforts, be assured. No doubt you'd like to leave this devastated settlement"?

* * *

"I would appreciate your help" he replied.

Sekiro did not know to what he agreed to, but he was not opposed to being paid for his efforts despite his actions being based on a desire to help innocents only. He was keen to visit this city; however, wanting to learn more about this land, Huntsman, as they so called themselves, glancing to the team of children before him.

And Isshin. Well. Perhaps there'd be alcohol in this city 'Vale'.

What could go wrong?

* * *

Author's review replies:

_PardonMySkillz_ _chapter 2 _

_so... what combat arts will be present?_

**Hmm... everything you'd expect after a full playthrough tbh. I don't really have a list of them and arts such as **shadowrush** will be replaced by pure speed and agility, as It's sort of hard to write in combat arts.**

**Both Sekiro and Isshin's feats won't be as distinguishable in the game as it is in my writing, however, ****they'll be present nonetheless.**

**For example:**

**Ichimonji combat art -**

_'the rad sword dude used ichimonji strike on the temple of this madlad who dared approached him'** will be replaced by **'Sekiro delivered a debilitating strike from overhead, with enough force to shatter the tempered steel before him. Another strike was delivered in the same motion, piercing through the aura of the unfortunate opponent, rendering him immobile in just two strokes of the blade.'_

Marco Geddes _chapter 2_

_I love the premise so far, with both Sekiro and Isshin in the work of RWBY. Yoooo, I could just imagine both of them messing shit up, I'm so hyped! Just reading about when isshin goes full boss mode would be sooo cool along with seeing sekiro having a boss mode to maybe? He certainly is like playing like a boss with his revives and how he can switch weapons and art at a moment's notice. Anyway you got me as a follower, good luck writing!_

**Thanks for your feedback, I'm glad you're enjoying it. And yeah, of course, Sekiro will be getting some highlights, and I can't wait to write in prosthetic weaponry in addition.**

**He won't be getting revived though, he's severed the ties of immortality right now, so the threat of death is present.**

* * *

Author's notes:

**I know I said I'll be busy with University, however, it seems that I can get in an hour or two of writing every day which is great. Another chapter, another adventure with these two. Hope you enjoyed.**

**And on another note. Sekiro and Isshin are from Japan. They're not speaking Japanese here for the sole fact that it's convenient lmao.**

**I would NOT enjoy writing a translation arc, and plus I did English VAs for my playthrough so it's fine (don't me)**

**How hilarious would it be if they just spoke to them in English, expressing their thanks and they're just like "Nan-to iimashita ****ka?"**

**And just a heads up -There'll be a couple of ****days break, maybe even a week between chapters as I'm**** aiming for 5-7k ****word count each chapter.**

**There'll most likely be no chapter ****this week or next week though, as I am preparing for a law exam.**

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
